


Wine and Roses

by red_lasbelin



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Bittersweet, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, lazy day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-28
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-12-20 20:09:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11928330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/red_lasbelin/pseuds/red_lasbelin
Summary: Long distance is never easy, but it's worth it.





	Wine and Roses

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elladansgirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elladansgirl/gifts).



> My prompt was: Glorfindel/Elladan or Elladan/Thranduil or Glorfindel/Thranduil. A stressfull day, stress relief, nice surprise. Angst is good but happy ending is a must.
> 
> I didn't quite get them all, but I really hope you like this story, Jade!!

The sun filtered through the trees, the leaves casting a shadow on the path before Glorfindel. It was not a smooth, wide path through the woods, but small and winding around rocks and roots of very old trees. He had been this way before, but not recently, and he had just reached the point of wondering if he had taken the wrong turn when he heard the sound of water. This encouraged him, so he kept going and was rewarded by the forest path widening to reveal a grassy clearing by a large stream.

There were large flat rocks of dark shale by the water, and a big tree had fallen, most likely during a storm, stretching the width of the stream and forming a natural bridge. An elf lay on his back across said tree,  bare foot dangling over the water. Glorfindel crossed the clearing to stand by the water’s edge – noting the boots, tunic and bag tucked by one of the rocks. The elf didn’t move, didn’t even open his eyes.

“Not afraid I’m a spider?” Glorfindel asked, amused.

“I know how spiders sound in the trees and you sound nothing like it.” Finally Thranduil propped himself up with an elbow and opened dark green eyes, taking Glorfindel in from head to toe. “You’re late, by the way. Did you bring the wine?”

“Course I did.” Glorfindel put his satchel and wineskin by Thranduil’s belongings and started to take off his boots. “They do know you’re gone for the afternoon, yes? I won’t be accused of kidnapping the king?”

“Yes, that would do terrible things to our diplomatic relations. A plot against the king - I should throw you in my dungeons for that…” Thranduil made a show of considering it as Glorfindel stripped off his shirt and waded into the water. It was cool, even in the heat of the summer afternoon, but it felt very good after a difficult morning. Finding two good hand holds, he swung himself up onto the tree bridge, which was old and thick enough to bear both their weight.

“Elrond would be bloody pissed if you threw one of his delegates into your dungeon. Not to mention it would undo all the work I’ve done and the whole reason I’m here.”

Thranduil sat up and stretched, then reached for Glorfindel, pressing a kiss to his mouth. “Too bad, I’d rather keep you.”

Glorfindel was distracted temporarily, watching the corded muscle shift under tanned skin: Thranduil’s movement reminded him of those large, cat-like beasts he’d seen in Harad.  He reached for the end of Glorfindel’s braid, but Glorfindel intercepted his hand, fingers round his wrist. “Not unless you plan on combing out the tangles later.”

His grip on Thranduil’s wrist was broken with an efficient twist against his thumb, and Thranduil instead wound the thick braid round his wrist and gave a gentle but firm tug. “Maybe the reason you and Elrond get along so well is that you’re as difficult as he is.”

“You aren’t the first person or probably the last person to call me difficult,” Glorfindel replied, laughing. He leaned in closer to Thranduil, their shoulders touching. “But I think you like the challenge.”

“I don’t like to be bored,” Thranduil said with a shrug. “Never have been. If only I could get you to stay in one place.”

“I don’t want to argue about it again, Thran. It is what it is. I suspect you’d grow bored of me if I spent all my time here.”

“So you’re not going to give me a chance to find out?”

Glorfindel leaned in, finding Thranduil’s mouth with his own and kissing him. The night before had been rough and heated, they were both strongly opinionated and set in their own ways and so could fall into the wrong side of passionate. But they also had their way of making up, soothing without words some of the damage their arguments wrought with mouths and hands.  This kiss was gentle, but threaded with the desire of the night before. Glorfindel’s hand rested on Thranduil’s chest, on the sun-warmed skin, feeling the steady heartbeat underneath his palm.

“No, I’m not.” He untangled himself from Thranduil’s grasp and slid from the bridge back into the water. It rose to mid-thigh, cool even with the heat of the sun, and he moved further down the stream to where the water was darker and deeper. He dove beneath the surface, a small group of fishes scattering to be so rudely disturbed. He’d planned on spending the day like this, had worked hard to pack up after the several month-long stay and coordinate the team so he could have this stolen afternoon, the last day with his lover for his foreseeable future.

Finally, when breath grew short, he rose and flipped lazily on his back to float along on the current, feeling the sunshine on his face. This continued for a few moments, then just about the time he wondered where Thranduil was, he felt a grip on his ankle and a hard tug as he was pulled underneath the surface. The water filled his mouth and swallowed his curses. As he resurfaced, spluttering, he heard bright, full laughter from Thranduil.

He launched himself at Thranduil and they tussled, fighting for a decent hold. Their struggles certainly scared the fish and other creatures and warned them not to come near until the invaders had left their stream. The racket of their laughter and gasps for breath must have taken care of all the rest of the woodland creatures in the vicinity.  Finally, Thranduil called a truce.

“All right, enough. I need some of that wine and food. I had to start my day ridiculously early to make sure we’d have the rest of the afternoon.”

He made his way to the sloping bank, water sluicing off of him, while Glorfindel trod water and watched. Thranduil looked back with a raised eyebrow. “Aren’t you coming?”

“Me? Oh, I’m just taking in the sights,” Glorfindel said with a grin.

Thranduil turned to face him properly and hooked his thumbs into the wet waistband of his pants, causing it to dip dangerously low. “Get up here and you can do more than just look.”

“I am beginning to think you have something personal against bedrooms and general propriety.” But, even with his protest, Glorfindel started swimming towards the bank, until the water grew shallow enough to walk towards the rocks.

“As I recall, you were the one who started it in the throne room after hours, propriety be damned,” Thranduil said, then grunted with triumph when he found the wineskin Glorfindel had brought with him.

Glorfindel shook the water off, then wrung his braid out. The sun was quite warm and they would dry quickly. “It’s one of the few places we hadn’t tried yet. If we’re going to do something, I like to be thorough about it.”         

“That’s one of the things I like about you.” Thranduil took a large drink from the wineskin and then passed it to Glorfindel. “How very thorough you are.”

The wine was red and full-bodied, just as Thranduil liked it, and he drank it as easily as some drank water. Glorfindel personally didn’t think he could drink so much himself and still trust all of his judgements, but Thranduil managed well, for the most part, from what Glorfindel had seen. He knew it contributed to some of the woodland king’s unreasonableness at times, and a furnace-hot temper when roused. He’d felt the full force of it last night.

The wine relaxed him though, and Glorfindel had done all he’d needed to do for the departure in the morning. There was nothing left that Naerdiel, his second in command for this trip, could not take care of.

“Eat something. I know you, if it weren’t for your attendant your breakfast would be still on your desk, stale and lifeless. Then maybe I’ll be thorough with you.”

“Promises, promises.” Thranduil reached for his bag, rested it on the rock and pulled out elk jerky, pears and a wedge of cheese, wrapped in cloth. “I don’t have the time or interest in breakfast. Better things to be doing.”

“I’ve picked that up, yes.” Glorfindel took a cloth out of his satchel and spread it out on the ground under the shade of a very old oak tree by the water. He brought the wineskin with him and sat, his back against the thick, weathered roots of the tree. He rested his head against the bark and watched with half closed eyes as Thranduil brought the food over and sat cross-legged besides him.

They passed the wineskin between them and ate, listening to the bubbling of the stream, the chattering of the squirrels who lived among the oak tree’s branches and the sparrows nested high above. Slowly, Glorfindel felt the wine and the heat of the day sink into him and make his skin flush. Thranduil seemed unperturbed. He flicked a pear core expertly to land in the grass some feet away from them. They kept it light when they spoke at all.

Finally, when the food was finished the wineskin was almost empty, but Glorfindel had had enough and handed it to Thranduil and moved to lie on the cloth and place his head on Thranduil’s thigh. Thranduil took the wineskin from him to finish it and rested a hand on Glorfindel’s head, touching the damp, golden strands.

“I don’t want you to go.” Thranduil said, eventually. He said it quietly, but with the tones of someone who was used to getting whatever he desired and was confused about why he wasn’t getting what he wanted.

For a moment Glorfindel didn’t answer, knowing that whatever he said was just going to be an echo of the night before and not what Thranduil wanted to hear.  “I swore allegiance to Elrond and his family. His lineage goes back to Turgon, my king, and he hasn’t released me from my oath.”

“He has the Ring of Air, and yet he cannot spare you?” Bitterness tinged Thranduil’s voice, even with the familiarity of the argument. “Elrond and Galadriel both have an advantage in fighting the darkness. I could use you, we could turn back the corruption of this wood together.”

“The future, what little I’ve seen, for me lies in Imladris. Even as my heart stays here, with you.” Glorfindel turned onto his back, looking up at Thranduil. “I cannot ignore it. You know this, and I’ve never promised more than I could give.”

The unspoken words from last night hung heavily between them. The whole argument had been circular, a snake eating its own tail. Glorfindel suspected it was one of the first times Thranduil had been told that “You’re my lover, not my king.” He’d had his wife, and lovers of course, but they held allegiance to the King of the wood. Glorfindel was the exception to this rule, and sometimes he felt sure Thranduil didn’t know what to make of him. The king was used to having his way in the end, or crafting some means to attain his desires. In this, he could not have what he wanted.

Thranduil frowned but said nothing. They had fought themselves to a standstill last night too, in the privacy of the royal bedchamber, unable to budge from their deeply held beliefs. The yelling had stopped, a check-mate; they stood across from each other, then Glorfindel launched himself at Thranduil and kissed him, hard. It was easier then to fall into bed, to kiss and touch and fuck when there were no more answers to be found. Better to have a reminder of why they wouldn’t let go, say that they were better off without each other and walk their own paths.

“If you wish to stop this now, I won’t blame you,” Glorfindel said, looking up at him. Thranduil’s crown was absent today, but he didn’t need the circlet of golden leaves, his bearing, the way he fit in the forest said it all.

“Oh, I know. I can stop at any time, take a lover who shares the plight of my home, my life and my bed. Be easier,” Thranduil said, his voice as dry as brittle autumn leaves. “I can’t tell some days if I’m more frustrated with you or myself.”

“It’s not all wine and roses for me either.” Glorfindel tried to keep his tone mild, even though it was an old wound to have to remind Thranduil of this. “I wouldn’t mind having someone to come home to at the end of the night.”

“Then why don’t you?” Thranduil asked. His bluntness was softened a little by the thumb stroking across Glorfindel’s cheek bone, then drifting over his lips, fingers underneath his jaw. “There’s plenty of elves back in Elrond’s valley all starry-eyed for you, the twice born elf from legend and song.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were jealous, Thran.” Glorfindel nipped at his thumb, holding it between strong, white teeth for a moment. Then he let it go and pushed himself up to kneel over Thranduil.

“I don’t get jealous.” Thranduil touched him, hands palm down on Glorfindel’s strong thighs, and held his eyes with an unwavering look. “Just answer my question.”

“I’m too stubborn for my own good?” Glorfindel offered, taking the opening to kiss down Thranduil’s neck. He was allowed to do it for a moment, before he felt a sharp tug on his braid and he hissed but moved, easing the pressure to bring his eyes up to Thranduil’s face again.

“Everyone knows that, you held the rear and fought a Balrog.” Small furrows gathered on Thranduil’s brow – he rarely showed himself to be impressed. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

Glorfindel couldn’t help himself; he had always found it easier to deflect remarks about his past with humor. “I’d much rather hold your rear.”

It got the reaction he’d hoped for, a startled laugh and Thranduil’s grip on his hair loosened. “Gods, what am I going to do with you?”

Glorfindel drew his face close to Thranduil, so close he could see the small specks of blue and yellow in his deep green eyes. “Kiss me and let tomorrow take care of itself.”

\----------

Luckily for them both, Thranduil took his advice, until breath was short and they had to lean against the tree for balance. The sun went in and out of the clouds, filtering through the trees, the temporary reprieve giving them extra shade and coolness. His hand deftly undid the laces of Glorfindel’s breeches, slipping inside to grasp the half hardness there. It didn’t take much to coax Glorfindel to full attention and Thranduil seemed to take a special pleasure in rendering him near speechless, left only with gasping breaths and muttered oaths near Thranduil’s ear.

He gathered enough of his wits to take hold of Thranduil’s wrist, stilling him. “Stop, this will be over too soon.”

“I want you,” Thranduil said, and managed to stroke him once more, fully, leaving Glorfindel to shudder in the wake of it. “I have had enough arguing - let me have you.”

This wasn’t something they did often, but Glorfindel considered it, took a breath, let it out and nodded.  “Do you have something?”

Thranduil let go of Glorfindel to reach for his bag and rummage through it till he found a container of salve. Glorfindel raised his eyebrows when he produced it. “Oh, you were planning this, were you?”

“I don’t like to be caught unawares.” Thranduil smiled as charmingly as he could.

Glorfindel snorted but let Thranduil kiss him again before he got up to take his breeches off the rest of the way and step out of them. He tossed them over by the rock with his shoes and looked over his shoulder at Thranduil, who sat on the ground, back against the tree trunk, pants unlaced, his prick in hand, coating it with slick.

“Oh, I remember why I am doing this now.” Thranduil smirked and Glorfindel considered throwing something at him, but he was hard and aching and sometimes that took precedence over everything else.

“Shut up,” Glorfindel said and straddled him again, batting Thranduil’s hand away and grasping his prick firmly to help guide him up and inside. Thranduil took hold of his waist instead and looked up at Glorfindel.

“Don’t you want…?”

Glorfindel shook his head. “No, just – go slow.”

It took time, resistance giving way gradually, but finally they were joined, Glorfindel seated on Thranduil’s lap, arms round his neck. Thranduil pressed kisses to his cheeks and eyelids as they waited. Three breaths and then Glorfindel nodded.

Thranduil moved then, pushing up, overcoming the final resistance and using his next few thrusts to find the right place to make Glorfindel’s breath hitch and the heat curl tighter in his gut and his prick. Glorfindel also moved, chasing that feeling, finding a rhythm that suited them both. The bark was rough under his hand, and Thranduil’s skin hot, so hot against him.

The heat began to build; Thranduil’s hand was shoved between them, pulling at Glorfindel’s prick, not totally coordinated with their rocking, but it didn’t matter – it was enough. Glorfindel leaned in and placed a hard, sucking kiss to where Thranduil’s neck met his shoulder and rode Thranduil as best he could til his climax began to overtake him and he cried out, hitting his fist against the bark as his pleasure crested.

Thranduil kept stroking him through his orgasm, taking him to the edge of overstimulated and sensitive. Glorfindel shuddered, the pleasure sharp and biting, and touched his wrist. “Enough. It’s your turn, take what you need.”

He watched Thranduil, felt him push deeper inside, in and out, hardness filling him, until Thranduil grunted and stilled, his grip tight on Glorfindel’s waist, holding him as he spilled. Pushing sweat damp hair away from Thranduil’s face, he leaned in and rested his forehead against the king’s forehead, closing his eyes.

They stayed like that, still joined, eyes closed, and breathed. In the stillness, Glorfindel realized that they hadn’t had much quiet together for some time now, too busy arguing over who was right. He untangled himself carefully from Thranduil and stretched out onto the now empty cloth, beckoning Thranduil to join him. They lay there, half dozing in the sun, lazy in the aftermath of their pleasure.

“You never did answer my question, you know.” Thranduil turned on his side next to Glorfindel and rested a hand on his chest. “Not properly.”

Glorfindel, on his back with eyes closed, made a noise.

“I know you’re awake, Fin. Why haven’t you found someone in Imladris?”

Glorfindel resisted a sigh, he was drifting off quite nicely - it seemed that an afternoon nap wasn’t in his cards. He opened his eyes and saw the sunlight filtering through the thick canopy of green leaves. This feeling of summer in the deep forest would always remind him of his lover. He shifted on the blanket, enough to look at Thranduil.

“Because I’ve found in my two lives that the really important things are very rarely the easiest things to do. But just because they’re difficult doesn’t make them any less worth doing. Loving you is worth it.”

It was rare to see Thranduil so moved. He said nothing but kissed Glorfindel with a tenderness that was rare for the two of them. Glorfindel smiled into the kiss and tucked this moment away for later – one of the memories to keep him warm on the lonely winter nights in Imladris. No matter the distance or difficulty, they were in this together.

This would be the hope that would carry them through, until the day they would no longer be separated but together for the rest of time.

**Author's Note:**

> Beta: the always amazing Keiliss.


End file.
